


Found

by wendyindahouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Laundromat AU, M/M, Panty Kink, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendyindahouse/pseuds/wendyindahouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s never been Dean’s favourite part of the job, checking the machines to make sure they’re empty, but as Manager of the laundromat, it had been decreed at some point in the dim and distant past that it should be his responsibility.  When he finds a pair of black satin panties at the end of a long shift, he could never have guessed where the search for thir owner would lead...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for a prompt and posted over on my [tumblr](poorbeautifuldean.tumblr.com)

It’s never been Dean’s favourite part of the job, checking the machines to make sure they’re empty, but as Manager of the laundromat, it had been decreed at some point in the dim and distant past that it should be his responsibility.  

There’s nearly always a threadbare sock or two wedged into the farthest reaches of a washer, or an old, greying bra - always old and greying, never the good stuff - caught forlornly against the side of the drum and unheeded by a customer in a hurry.  Usually, everything just goes in the battered cardboard box they keep behind the counter in case a customer comes back for it, though on one memorable occasion there had been a jockstrap with suspicious stains lurking in a dryer that Dean had gingerly removed with two fingers, retching as he tried not to think about it, and slung straight in the trash.

As he peers into the final dryer, he can see there’s something at the back - a dark shape that’s probably a bobbly old sock - and he reaches in cautiously to retrieve it.  He almost jumps when his fingers brush against fabric that’s far softer than he expected, fabric that’s smooth and sleek.  He pulls the garment free carefully, turning into the light to inspect it, and discovers he’s actually holding black satin panties.  

He can feel himself flushing as he rubs the soft material between his fingers, glad that the others have gone home for the day already, leaving him to do the nightshift by himself.

The panties are cute - soft black satin with a tiny pink bow at the front and a delicate strip of pink lace at the waist.  His imagination supplies an image of their owner - smooth curves and soft skin, the panties pulled taut over the swell of her ass, skimming her hips and framing the tops of her thighs - and he feels his mouth go dry.

The door from the street opens behind him to admit a customer, letting in a sudden blast of cold air and traffic noise that breaks his reverie.  He balls the panties up in his hand as he turns, nodding to the man and briefly registering tousled dark hair and a pair of intense, bright blue eyes that send a jolt through him, before making his way hastily back to the counter.

His hand is already hovering over the ‘found’ box when the thought occurs to him, a smirk pulling at his lips.  These panties are a cut above the usual dross he finds, and he’s pretty sure the owner would be grateful to have them back.  She’s bound to be sexy, if the underwear is any clue, and he wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of that gratutude.   He glances up to check the customer is occupied, frowning in confusion as he realises the man has left already without him even noticing, then shrugs and spreads the panties out on the surface in front of him before quickly snapping a picture with his phone.

Dean hauls out his laptop, uploads the picture and starts drafting a flyer, grinning to himself as he does.  It’s not exactly standard procedure for found items, but he’s the manager and he figures that’s finally coming in useful for something other than the crappy paycheck.  He keeps the flyer simple, with just the word ‘FOUND’ above the picture, and his own phone number underneath with a message for the owner to call Dean if they want to get them back.  He tapes it up on the wall over by the dryers, adding another behind the counter for good measure, and for the rest of his shift, goes back to daydreaming about the woman he imagines filling out those panties so nicely; a woman who now has messy dark hair and big, blue eyes.

***

It a couple of weeks later, the flyers already yellowing and curling at the edges, when Dean gets the call.  He’s working the nightshift again, the laundromat is empty, and he’s slouched on his stool behind the counter re-reading Vonnegut again to relieve the boredom.  He’s all but forgotten about the panties - certainly given up expecting anyone to claim them - and he frowns down at his cell and at the unknown number calling him.

"Hello?" he mutters, gruffly.

"Oh.  Hello.  Am I speaking with Dean?"  a deep, gravelly voice asks, and Dean finds himself sitting up a little straighter, the book falling from his hand.

"Uh, yeah.  This is Dean.  And you are?"

"Oh, I do apologise.  My name is Castiel."

Dean frowns at the name, certain he’d remember if he’d ever heard it before, or the voice that goes with it.

"I’m calling with regard to the flyer in the laundromat, about the uh…  _found_ item.”

The pause is momentary but Dean notices it, hears the way this Castiel’s voice is slightly rougher afterwards, and his eyes shoot to the flyer on the wall beside him.  He grins.  This guy must be calling on behalf of a girlfriend who’s too embarrassed to do it herself.  That’s kind of cute actually, if a little disappointing when it comes to that ‘reward’ he’d been hoping for.

"You’re calling about the panties huh?  Well they’re still here, so you can come get them whenever.  I’ll leave a note to let the others know…"

"I’ll come now" Castiel interrupts, and Dean blinks at the clipped tones.

"Okay then dude" he agrees.  "I’ll see you in a while, I guess."

"You will.  Goodbye Dean."

Dean stares down at his cell as the call is ended abruptly, but reasons the guy is probably just embarrassed too.  Discussing your girlfriends underwear with a total stranger is a little weird after all, and he turns back to his book as he waits for Castiel to show up.

His arrival is announced 15 minutes later by the slow creak of the door and the blare of car horns from the street.  Dean looks up with interest, only to meet big, blue eyes that he instantly recognises.

"You’re Castiel?  You were here two weeks ago!" he blurts, instantly regretting it as he realises it’s probably not normal to remember that.  He can’t help it if those eyes stayed with him though - they’re insanely blue. 

The man nods, his cheeks flushing slightly, and extends a hand.  Dean shakes it, his palm tingling at the firm contact, and clears his throat.

"I’m Dean.  So, uh… she sent you in to look for them that night too huh?" he asks with a teasing smile, but Castiel frowns, tilting his head slightly as he regards Dean in apparent confusion.

"Your girlfriend" Dean clarifies, reaching into the drawer beneath the counter to retrieve the panties.  "She sent you to get ‘em ‘cause she’s too embarrassed right?"

Castiel blinks at him for a moment, startled, then his cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red and realisation dawns on Dean: there is no girlfriend and the panties belong to Castiel.

"Oh…" he breathes, his mouth going dry and a sudden warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach as his fingers close around the panties and his mind supplies a vivd image of Castiel wearing them; of the sleek satin stretched across his hips, straining against the bulge of his cock, clinging to the damp skin, and how it would feel dragging against his own…

A sharp cough drags him back to the present and he flushes himself as he realises he’s staring at Castiel, his breathing rapid.  Castiel takes several steps closer, moving to stand right in front of him, looking more intrigued than embarrassed now, his hot gaze drawn to Dean’s mouth as Dean’s tongue flickers out to moisten his lips and he glances down at the panties in his hand.

"You should try it sometime Dean" Castiel murmurs.  "The way it feels against one’s skin, teasing, tantalising…  It’s heavenly.  Perhaps instead of returning them, you should keep those for yourself."

Dean swallows hard, the bunched black satin sliding between his fingers, and imagines how it would feel to wear them instead.  

"Either way, this is now unnecessary" Castiel continues, reaching past Dean to pull the faded flyer down from the wall.  Dean gasps as Castiel’s shirt rides up, revealing a scrap of white lace pulled taut across the smooth, tanned skin of his hip, and his fingers reach out to trail over it before he can stop himself.  Castiel tenses but presses into the touch as he slowly straightens up and Dean can feel Castiel’s breath rasping hotly against his ear.

"Lace feels even better Dean" Castiel whispers, and Dean shivers, his fingers slipping under the fine, white lace as he strokes Castiel’s hip.  Castiel turns his head slightly, soft mouth pressing a fleeting kiss to the curve of Dean’s jaw as he continues, "…and you would look so beautiful in them."

Dean shudders and twists his head further until his mouth finds Castiel’s and he kisses him hard - demanding and slightly desperate - letting out a groan as Castiel’s fingers slide through his hair, tightening against his scalp.

Dean wrenches his mouth away, breathless, glancing towards the clock, and thank God, it’s only 30 minutes away from closing time and he can get away with closing early.  He slides out from under Castiel, striding to the door to lock it and flip over the closed sign, letting out a little huff of laughter when he realises he’s still clutching the black panties.  

When he turns back, Castiel is frowning, his head tilited in silent question again, and Dean smirks.  He gestures to the doorway behind Castiel, where a flight of steps leads up to his apartment, and lets the panties drop from his palm to dangle from outstretched fingers.

"I think it’s about time you showed me exactly what I’m missing out on, don’t you?"


End file.
